chapter 15
No doubt but there is none other beast comparable to the mighty dragon in awesome power and majesty, and few so worthy of the diligent studies of wise men.
—GILDAS MAGNUS, ARS DRACONIS
Ciara did not know if the other woman had been able to do this because she had the gift of sight, more of her father’s Chrechte blood than she’d ever realized, or simply because any child of a Chrechte could do it.
And it did not matter. All that was of any importance in that moment was that Mairi’s scent would not give them away to their enemy.
“Open your eyes now, Mairi.”
The other woman did, their blue depths glazed with her effort to concentrate on masking her scent.
Eirik’s head snapped around and he stared at Ciara with shocked question, though he remained silent as a good warrior should.
Ciara smiled, her pride in Mairi’s accomplishment warm inside her. She tilted her head toward Mairi to let Eirik know the human had done it, not Ciara. Not that she could have, but perhaps among the Éan such would have been possible.
Eirik narrowed his eyes in acknowledgment but turned around to focus on where he led them.
Ciara leaned sideways to speak in Mairi’s ear again. “It is very important you keep your focus on these scents. You are too new at this to maintain the mask on your scent without full concentration.”
Mairi nodded, this time firmly.
Eirik’s horse veered to the right and Ciara followed him, nudging Mairi’s leg to make sure she did the same. The path narrowed through the trees and Ciara was forced to ride ahead of Mairi, rather than beside her, but the other woman did not slip in her concentration for even a second.
They rode in complete silence for two hours before Eirik put his fist in the air to call them to a halt.
He looked back at them over his shoulder. “We are in no danger of being discovered by the MacLeod soldiers spied from the sky.”
So, the eagle and ravens had been on guard duty. No wonder Eirik had been so frustrated with them. More to the point, the Éan had been able to communicate the danger to Eirik.
“You are sure?” Mairi asked in a strained voice, interrupting Ciara’s thoughts.
No sooner had Eirik said, “Aye,” than Mairi’s entire body sagged and her scent became discernable once again amidst the fragrances of the forest. While it was no longer spiced with fear, there was an undeniable element of relief in it.
She slumped sideways and Ciara caught her before the other woman fell off her horse. Lais was there in a heartbeat, pulling Mairi right onto the blond warrior’s lap atop his horse.
“Masking her scent was hard on her.” The healer’s concern was apparent, but so was his pride in Mairi’s accomplishment. “She did it though, and no wolf to share her soul, either.”
“That she did,” Eirik agreed.
Ciara shook her head at the way the men talked about Mairi, instead of to her. She reached out and patted Mairi’s leg. “You did as well as any wolf.”
Mairi gave her a tired grin. “Really?”
“Most certainly. Better than I the first time I tried to mask my scent.” She did not mention she’d been a child at the time.
Her father had not believed in waiting for the first change to begin training his children in the ways of the Chrechte. Since both her parents had been Faol and their parents before them, there was no question that Ciara or Galen would share their soul with a wolf.
“We have another two hours’ ride to the water.” Eirik looked at Mairi. “Do you need to rest?”
She shook her head and Lais said, “She will ride with me.”
Mairi did not argue.
Ciara noted Eirik did not ask her if she needed a break and that made her smile. He did not think Ciara weak, despite the toll her dreams had taken on her.
She looked up, taking in the position of the sun. Then she considered what she could see of landmarks around her. Eirik had guided them away from the threat, but with a minimal loss in time to reach the Sinclair boats for crossing the water to Balmoral Island.
It was impressive, though she’d no plans to tell him so. The man had enough confidence in his own abilities without adding her confidence in him to the mix.
He maneuvered his horse so they faced one another, but were side by side. “You did well, teaching Mairi to mask her scent.”
“She made all the effort.”
“No.” He brushed the back of his knuckles along Ciara’s cheek, making her want to lean into this touch. “You do not realize it, but as her princess you were able to reach out to the Chrechte within her in a way no one else could have.”
But in a way he understood.
“Is this true?” she could not help asking.
“It is. Among the Éan, those of my family are charged with training the human offspring of our Chrechte brethren. Not all have equal abilities, but it takes one of the family of the Gra Gealach to draw whatever Chrechte gifts they do have forth.”
“That is amazing.”
“It is. My aunt was charged with it when we lived in the forest. Now that we are spread among the clans, others will have to share the burden.”
“Your aunt came to the Sinclairs?”
“One of them. Fidaich’s mother.”
“Oh.” Ciara still had a difficult time seeing herself as some kind of princess, but she thought her father should be made aware of this practice among the Éan. Perhaps the Faol could emulate it.
“Thank you,” Eirik said when the silence had been stretched between them.
Ciara had been lost in thought, but apparently, he was not finished with their conversation.
“Why?”
“I did not want to engage the enemy. Your safety and that of the human seer are of utmost importance.”
“Because of the Faolchú Chridhe.” Why did part of her wish there was a more personal component to Eirik’s concern?
“We must find it before the MacLeod.”
“Of course.” Ciara should not be disappointed by his answer. She really should not, but her foolish heart ached all the same. “We will.”
“Aye, we will.”
“You are so certain?”
Her words had been spoken more out of hope, but Eirik had sounded like he had seen the future and knew what would come to be. Perhaps as prince of his people, he had.
Though if he saw visions, would he not have told her? “Do you have what Mairi calls the sight as well?”
“Nay, but there is no doubt the Faolchú Chridhe calls to you in a way it does no other.”
“How do you know?” Though she herself was certain he spoke the truth, that knowledge an immovable boulder inside her heart.
“’Twould have been found by now otherwise. You have spent seven years denying its call.”
“I was afraid of what it could do.”
“Because you saw only the selfish lust for power your brother exhibited. You did not understand the gift the sacred stone is and should be to all the Faol.”
“No, I did not.” She swallowed and then admitted, “I did not let myself see the selfishness driving my brother, either. I needed to believe he wanted the best for the Faol as well.”
“He was young and deceived. He might yet have come around to understand the power was not meant for a few, but for all.”
“Thank you for saying that.”
Eirik shrugged and Ciara had to suppress a smile. He was much like her adopted father in some ways.
“We will wait to take to the sky until we see Lais and Mairi safely launched on the water,” Eirik said, clearly done with the other subject.
“All right.”
“You are being very agreeable.”
She shrugged. It was not her way to disagree for the sake of argument; if he thought otherwise, she could not help that.
When they arrived at the water, the eagle shifter was there to greet them. He bowed his head toward Eirik and grasped Lais’s arm in a warrior’s greeting.
“Where are Fidaich and Canaul?” Ciara asked Eirik.
“I sent them back to the Sinclair so they could tell him about the MacLeod soldiers on his land.”
“What will he do?” Mairi asked worriedly, seemingly oblivious to the implication behind Eirik’s claim to have sent the ravens away when they had never come out of the sky.
“He will send Niall and a group of Chrechte soldiers with him to confront the interlopers,” Ciara replied when it became apparent none of the warriors intended to do so.
Her father would not take a rival clan’s trespass on their lands lightly. Niall would be on a mission to teach the foolish soldiers a lesson as well as bring them to heel.
Lais added, “Those who survive the encounter will be taken to the Sinclair.”
Ciara wanted to kick him for his helpfulness. Mairi had gone gray. She might not want to return to her father’s clan, but that did not mean Mairi had no concern for her former clansmen. She understood, as Ciara did, that the soldiers may only be guilty of following their laird’s orders.
“Will he ransom them back to my father?” Mairi asked with a tremble in her voice. “I do not think he will pay, even for a Chrechte warrior.”
Though it was not an unheard-of practice between rival clans to demand payment for the return of those caught in battle (and to kill those the laird refused to pay for, or sell them into slavery), Ciara knew it was not something her father would do. Not unless there was a circumstance in which Talorc wanted to return a clan soldier. Then he might demand ransom.
“If he finds them worthy, my father will give them the opportunity to pledge allegiance to him as clan chief and pack alpha.”
“Truly?” Mairi asked with hope.
“My father is a Chrechte of great honor.”
Eirik grunted. “He is at that.”
“What will Laird Sinclair do if the soldiers won’t pledge him their loyalty?” Mairi asked, sounding as if she really did not want the answer.
“He will probably give them over to Niall to beat some honor into them.” Life in the Highlands was not so civilized as their king would like to believe.
Ignorant of his long-distance Chrechte heritage, King David had been heavily influenced by his years in England. Still, he was considered a good leader by most of his people. Although, while his Highland lairds were as loyal to him as they would be any king, they did not share his fascination with the English way of life.
Mairi flinched, her eyes filled with horror. “That is barbaric.”
“A man beating his daughter almost to death is barbaric,” Eirik said with disgusted conviction. “An honorable wolf teaching another how to live in the true Chrechte way is necessary.”
“Do not worry yourself,” Lais said with a pat on Mairi’s shoulder. “Depending on how committed to your father’s orders they are, the soldiers may not survive their first encounter with Niall at all.”
Ciara had to stifle an amused snicker at the eagle’s attempt at comforting Mairi. For a healer, he was awfully bloodthirsty.
Taking pity on the other woman, Ciara said, “Niall is a great warrior. He does not have to kill an enemy to win a fight.”
Mairi’s smile of relief had barely formed when Lais said, “But he’s not a warrior to balk at killing, either. He knows when it is better to end a life than prolong it. Even when that life is Chrechte.”
By the look Lais gave her, Ciara knew the words were as much for her sake as they were for Mairi. More so, if he had a brain in his head.
Warriors!
He wanted her to understand and accept Eirik’s actions seven years ago in the forest, she comprehended that. But did he comprehend the impact his words had on the human woman standing before him, looking so frightened and tired?
Ciara did not think so.
Besides, as unexpected as she might find her own feelings, Ciara found that she had already come to terms with Eirik’s actions. The dragon was protector of his people. Whether Galen had to die was not a point for discussion any longer. The fact was, he did die and not as innocently as she had once tried to make herself believe, either.
“I take your meaning, but I do not think your patient finds your words as comforting as you might have expected.” Ciara indicated the pale features of the human woman who looked about ready to faint.
Lais let out a Chrechte curse and Ciara had to turn her head to hide her smile this time. She felt badly for Mairi, but could not help being amused by Lais’s realization of the effect of his words.
Maybe he would think twice before meddling between Ciara and Eirik in future. It was not as if there was something between them that needed meddling, either. Mind-melting kisses aside, Eirik could have no permanent place in her life.
He was not looking for a mate, he had said so. And she did not want one. No mate to lose. No mate that would mean children she would love with everything left of her long-shattered heart.
He would help her find the Faolchú Chridhe and that would be that.
’Twas too bad that she’d always been better at deceiving others than her herself. Because she could not make herself believe those words, not even a little bit.
The flight to Balmoral Island was even more magical than the first time Ciara had ridden Eirik’s dragon. To be able to see the earth below in all its glorious color and the bright blue of the sky was astounding.
The feel of the wind on her face combined with the bright sunlight was unlike anything she had ever experienced.
The truth was, flying on the back of the dragon could become all too quickly something she craved.
They flew even higher than they had the first time, no doubt Eirik not wanting his dragon to be but a dot in the sky to any who might see him from below.
It was cold, but Ciara was fully dressed for this ride and Eirik had insisted she unfold her fur and blanket to wear like a double cloak. She’d scoffed, intending to shrug them off when they were in the air. Only she’d quickly discovered how very cold the summer air could be when the dragon flew so much faster than any horse she’d ever ridden. And the higher they went, the less the sun warmed her.
She snuggled in her fur-lined plaid against the dragon’s neck and laughed with the sheer joy of living in that moment. She could not remember the last time she had felt such happiness and she did not care, or hope for it to last. For this minute in time, she was truly delighted to be alive.
There was no worry about the Faolchú Chridhe, no concern about how easily Ciara lost herself in Eirik’s kisses, no secrets to hide or reveal as the case may be, simply Ciara and the dragon in the wide-open sky.
Eirik threw his head back and roared, a sound that went right through his massive dragon’s body and vibrated Ciara’s as well. And she laughed, loving the sensation of sharing in his delight. Then, he cast fire, huge flames that filled her vision. It was the most incredible adventure of Ciara’s life.
In that instant, she felt more connected to him than she had to anyone else…ever. She did not question how this could be, she simply enjoyed it for the temporary pleasure that it was.
It took no time at all to fly to the island. However, they did not land on the beach Ciara was used to from the yearly trips to Balmoral Island she had made with her adopted family. Instead, Eirik brought Ciara to a deserted stretch of beach around the curve of the island.
A guard of two men came out from the forest, their eyes big, their mouths dropped open in shock. With hair the color of the red sunset and looking vaguely familiar, the one on the left was a couple of inches taller and a bit broader than the one on the right. Neither could be discounted in a fight, though, she was sure.
The Éan were consistently smaller in stature than the Faol, Eirik being the exception, but her father said they were fierce warriors and he accorded them the same respect he did the wolves among his clan soldiers.
Thankfully, neither man lifted a weapon in threat. She did not want any of her adopted uncle’s warriors hurt because they thought to go against a dragon who happened to be their ally. Though the fact they had come out of the forest at all was odd, now that she thought about it.
Chrechte warriors were fierce, but to challenge a dragon? Only, they did not look like they meant to challenge Eirik, did they?
And surely Eirik’s dragon senses would have alerted him to their presence before he landed.
Mulling over these inconsistencies and coming up with nothing to explain them, Ciara climbed off Eirik’s back with help from his tail just as she’d done the first time. As soon as she stood on the ground, she dropped both her makeshift cloak and the bundle of Eirik’s things she had held in her lap for the flight.
Her hand rested against the handle of her dirk. Something strange was going on here, but she sensed no danger.
A flash of crimson light almost lost in the brightness of the sun heralded Eirik’s shift back into his human form. Neither of the men drawing nearer showed any surprise at this. In fact, the shorter one smiled in what had to be welcome.
Ciara cut a quick look to Eirik, but she saw no recognition in his features for the guards. Which was not to say he did not know them, his face was simply void of any expression at all.
Hers might not reflect the joy they’d both experienced in the air, but it no doubt showed her confusion.
As the men came closer, recognition dawned. These were Chrechte warriors she’d often seen in the company of her adopted uncle, the Balmoral. She believed the taller one’s name to be Gart and his companion’s was Artair.
Even so, why had Eirik landed here and revealed his dragon to them?
“Prince Eirik,” Gart said with a bow.
For a wolf to bow, he must hold another in great esteem. Ciara slid a sidelong glance at Eirik and wondered what he had done to gain such respect. Besides shift into a dragon.
She almost laughed at her own naïveté.
“It is Eirik only, now.”
“In the company of humans, perhaps,” the Balmoral warrior conceded.
Eirik merely inclined his head.
The smaller warrior, Artair, grinned. “Your dragon is amazing, Prince Eirik.”
“Aye, each time I take to the sky in that form, I know it.”
The two men nodded, their expressions full of awe.
“Lais and a human woman formerly of the MacLeod clan will be arriving by boat in a couple of hours.”
“They are welcome.”
Eirik inclined his head. “Your laird does not expect us.”
“Nay,” Gart confirmed.
And the more they conversed, the angrier Ciara became. These men clearly knew about Eirik, that he was prince of the Éan and his dragon was no surprise to them, either. Though seeing it for the first time had clearly been so.
None of this matched with the secrecy still surrounding the Éan among her clan, nor Eirik’s declared intent to keep his dragon and position as prince under wraps particularly.
She grabbed his arm and tugged him a few steps away from the guards.
“You trust the Balmoral more than the Sinclair?” she demanded in a furious whisper as the import of the situation became plain.
“They are Faol, they can hear your whispering.”
“I know that.” She glared. “You said you did not want the Faol to know of your dragon form.”
“Niall and Guaire know of my dragon, as do a handful of your father’s most trusted soldiers.”
“So, what are you saying, the Balmoral and a select few of his Chrechte know as well?” she asked sarcastically.
But Eirik nodded. “Exactly. Your uncle knows of my dragon as do the four soldiers who share this beach’s watch.”
“Anyone else?” she demanded, though she knew it was not her business to do so.
Eirik raised one sardonic brow, but he answered. “His lady, your mother’s sister, the Balmoral’s second and Drustan’s mate, your father’s sister.”
“Why the Chrechte who are assigned to this beach?”
“In case of a situation just like this one. Should the Sinclair need to get word to the Balmoral quickly, I am their best hope.”
There was no denying that truth. “I think even more than they realize.” Eirik raised his brows in question, but she shook her head. “We can discuss it later. For now, we had best begin our trek to the castle.”
The only way to the castle was a narrow switchback path up the side of the cliff overlooking the ocean. She wasn’t looking forward to the walk. She might be Chrechte, but the long horse ride from the keep to the beach was tiring. Her ride on the dragon had drained the last of her reserves, though for a very different reason.
It had been so wonderfully pleasurable, she’d exhausted herself with joy.
“We will wait for night. Lais will have arrived with the boat by then. I will fly you and Mairi to the keep. Lais will allow her the short ride on my dragon to preserve her strength. Besides, he will fly beside me.”
Right. They would have to wait and see if Mairi was really Lais’s mate, Ciara thought with a heavy dose of sarcasm. She almost snorted her disbelief but kept the unladylike sound inside her.
Warriors and their games of the mind. As if women were so easily fooled.
“I thought you wanted to get to the keep sooner. That is why we didn’t just fly the whole way at night, is it not?”
“The MacLeod soldiers in the forest waylaid our original plans, if you will remember.”
“I suppose.”
He laid what she thought was a very proprietary hand on her neck. “I am not certain we should go to the keep tonight and not wait for the morning now as well.”